


Bagginshield Summer Adventure

by Emsiecat



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bilbo Remains In Erebor, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dwarf Courting, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Fluff, Hair Braiding, M/M, Romance, Thorin is a Softie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 08:51:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20468333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emsiecat/pseuds/Emsiecat
Summary: As it’s getting hotter, Bilbo thinks about cutting his hair for more convenience – much to Thorin’s distress who’s thinking about courtship and marriage braids …





	Bagginshield Summer Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> This year’s Bagginshield summer event was titled ‘Bagginshield Summer Adventure’.
> 
> We were each given a little prompt to work with, and this was what I came with from mine.

As a rule, the hottest days of the year when one lived in the Shire tended to be during Forelithe, Overlithe, and Afterlithe. They were warm months of plenty with long days and golden sunshine. The occasional summer storm would make itself known, and despite the temperate climes, droughts were a blessedly rare occurrence. As such, the heat was never usually the oppressive, cloying, stifling sort, and overall summer in the Shire was a pleasant time for all inhabitants.

Yes, Bilbo Baggins could say with utter surety that he had enjoyed summers in the Shire.

Summers in Erebor however, tended to be another matter.

Geographically, Erebor was a far cry from The Shire. It was situated in the east, and a little further north than Bilbo's homeland. Coupled with the mountainous region and foreboding forests surrounding the area, Erebor's climate tended to differ greatly.

The summers were shorter for a start. Centred mainly around Afterlithe, (or _Âfghelekvust_ as the dwarves' knew it as). Although they were generally cooler in the weeks preceding and following, there was always the risk of a scorching heat wave around the middle of the month.

The mountains never did anything by halves; Bilbo recalled grumbling to his companions the first day he had awoken sweat-soaked and irritable earlier that week.

When the winters arrived, they were bitterly cold, harsh, and long. When the rains came, they were heavy, swelling the rivers and lakes and splitting the skies with lightning. Now apparently, when summer decided to show its face, it attempted to melt the mountains' inhabitants like iron ore in a forge flame.

Typical, just when they were trying to rebuild outside the mountain gates too.

Following the battle and the recuperation of Thorin and his nephews, Bilbo had decided to stay with them to help rebuild their home. After all, he had explained reasonably, one did not see friends home only to leave them when said home was in disarray; it was simply bad manners.

It really didn't have anything to do with the slowly blossoming romance he had found with Erebor's king. Or the fact that these dwarves were becoming more a family to him than the hobbits back home. No, it was merely his wish to do the right thing.

His deep blush and shy smile had rather given him away when he had admitted to his friends that he would like to stay however. They were thankfully good enough not to tease him about it too much.

Now though, Bilbo was beginning to regret not taking Dís up on her offer to return west with her to visit the Shire whilst she went on to the Blue Mountains to meet another caravan of dwarves.

It would have been a much more bearable temperature there.

The morning had been spent attempting to rebuild a stable block, but by elevenses, the sun was too hot for them to do anything else but try to find what shade they could and rest.

The hobbit normally would have been happier helping the dwarves with paperwork or farming or taking care of the livestock. However, he had offered to help with restoration in part to keep an eye on Thorin, Fíli, and Kíli. It wasn't that he didn't trust them, but they had spent a long time over the winter months in the hospital wing, and longer still trying to regain their strength. Now, Óin had finally agreed to let them help with manual labour and Bilbo had a feeling that if someone wasn't on hand to stop them from overdoing things, they'd do themselves a mischief.

He need not have worried. It was much too hot for anyone to try showing bravado and doing more than they could.

Thorin had called for work to stop before lunch.

Bilbo was sprawled out on the itchy, scrub of grass before the mountain, endeavouring to fan cool air onto his face by the power of his flapping neckerchief alone.

"You could just go shirtless like a lot of the others," Thorin pointed out, quite reasonably he thought.

It was a mark of improvement that Bilbo only looked mildly scandalised by this suggestion, rather than the blustering and fussing he may have displayed earlier in their acquaintance.

"And risk my skin reddening like a tomato in this sun? I think not." The hobbit sniffed primly. "You may be lucky enough just to bronze in this weather but I am liable to burn."

Thorin did feel rather sorry for his beloved. He painted a sorry picture, wilting like a plant in just his shirtsleeves and breeches, lengthening curls plastered against his forehead with perspiration. At least he had finally forgone the weskit and jacket Thorin noted with some satisfaction. They were slowly chipping away at that veneer of 'respectability' that Bilbo had been so adamant in retaining in months past. Or rather perhaps the heat wave had simply proven that Bilbo was not a complete glutton for punishment when it came between maintaining a presentable façade and his own comfort and wellbeing.

Thorin made a somewhat sympathetic sound in the back of his throat before taking a sip from his waterskin and handing it to a grateful Bilbo who gulped half the contents in one go to the dwarf's amusement.

"At least let Dori make you some more suitable clothes then. The fabrics you're wearing aren't made for weather like this. We use much lighter fabrics during _Âfghelekvust_."

Bilbo pulled on his lower lip in thought, a frown creased between his eyes. "I don't want you to waste the fabrics if we haven't enough to spare-"

"_Ghivashel_, it is a slow process but trade is starting to return to Erebor now, I'd not offer if I didn't think we had enough. I'm fairly certain one hobbit won't ruin us by commissioning some new clothes."

"Well, if you're sure…"

"Very sure, I'll ask Dori later. Having you end up in Óin's care due to heat-stroke is not something I'd welcome."

"Nor I, to be honest. If I'm stuck abed who's to keep the rest of you out of trouble?"

The flat look Thorin levelled at the hobbit was at odds with the amused quirk of his lips. "Cheek."

Bilbo snickered and pushed his curls back from his forehead, only to huff lightly when they flopped into his eyes again only moments later.

"If I'm to get a new wardrobe I'd not say no to a pair of shears to deal with this mess as well, I can't stand it in this heat." He added and waved an absent hand to indicate the irritating length his hair had grown to.

Bilbo didn't miss how Thorin's eyes lingered on his hair, there was something admiring in the dwarf's gaze that made the hobbit flush. He was beginning to enjoy these little looks Thorin would bestow upon him from time to time, though why his hair warranted one he could not say. Frankly, Bilbo thought it was in a terrible state; unruly and much too long for a male hobbit now, not to mention currently wet with perspiration and probably in need of a good wash and comb.

The hobbit presumed Thorin was just a little biased considering how their relationship was quite a new and tender thing. He recalled that folk back home could become silly in love, willing to see only the best in their partner (though Thorin didn't really strike him as the sort to indulge such starry eyed inclinations). Still, Bilbo did feel quite flattered by the attention.

What did seem a bit odd was the decidedly non-committal and dare he say slightly distressed sound Thorin made upon hearing Bilbo's request for something to cut his hair with.

It was testament to the heat of the day that their other companions had just been quietly resting while the king and hobbit conversed; even Fíli and Kíli who were slumped only a short distance from them. Now though, Kíli sat up straighter, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"Mess? Don't be daft, Bilbo. Your hair is fine as it is, don't go chopping it all off again."

Bilbo privately felt that out of all the dwarves, Kíli really didn't have the authority to say what was a mess or not, given the state of his own locks most of the time. It was sweet of the lad to try to reassure him though.

Whereas Bilbo was too polite to give voice to these thoughts, Fíli on the other hand had no such compunctions. "Kí, I really don't think you're the one who should be trying to give advice to others about their hair. If he has a lick of sense he'd not take any notice of you."

Fíli's voice was sleepy and Bilbo spotted a bright, teasing grin as the elder prince plucked the wide brimmed hat from where it lay across his face and chucked it in the general direction of his younger brother. "Hide your own raven's nest under that and then perhaps we'll let you lecture about what counts as a decent hairstyle."

Kíli spluttered in indignation as Bofur guffawed.

Fíli, shielding his eyes from the fun with his hand, turned his head to give Bilbo an appraising look and nodded. "He is right though, as it happens. Your hair is just starting to look a nice proper length. No sense in cutting it now."

"It's not a proper length though, not for a hobbit."

Kíli pouted as he lazily dodged a swipe from Fíli (who had decided he actually wanted his hat back after all… no such luck, Kíli was determined to wear it now; it looked better on him anyway). "But if you cut it then how will _Irak'adad_-"

"Boys, that's enough. If Bilbo wishes to cut his hair, that is up to him. He's not a dwarf." Thorin interjected.

Kíli looked decidedly put out at being interrupted. Fíli though, astute as ever stood up, brushing grass from his breeches as he hauled his brother up as well. "C'mon, let's go hassle Bombur for some lunch. We'll leave you old goats to your rest."

With a mischievous wink and jaunty wave, Fíli dragged as still grumbling Kíli back towards the mountain.

As if some unspoken command had passed between them, the remainder of their companions present (Bofur, Glóin, and Nori), turned their backs on their king and the resident hobbit, choosing to discuss the plans for the stable block instead.

That was a little odd, Bilbo frowned and mentioned as much to Thorin. "Alright, what just happened there, because clearly I'm missing something? Likely something to do with why you're all so against me cutting my hair."

"It's not anything you need to concern yourself over, Bilbo. Just a difference in our cultures it would seem."

"Well I'd like to know." Bilbo pressed, manoeuvring himself until he sat opposite Thorin and could meet his gaze squarely.

"Curious hobbit," Thorin hummed indulgently, his lips lifting in a small smile once more. "Very well, but please understand that you are under no obligation."

Bilbo considered questioning this further, but decided to hold his tongue for now as Thorin had lifted one of his braids, leaning forward presumably so that Bilbo could inspect it at closer quarters.

"You may have noticed that most dwarrow wear their hair, or their beards, or both long; and that we often braid them as well?"

Bilbo nodded in reply, leaning closer himself to admire Thorin's hair. It was indeed something Bilbo had noticed even so far back as first meeting Thorin and his company. He recalled Balin kindly mentioning that hair and beards were important to dwarrow culture, but he had elaborated no further than that. Dwarves after all, guarded their cultural practices nearly as closely as they did their language, and outsiders were not generally allowed to be privy to such information.

It was only since the turn of the year that the Company had agreed that Bilbo should be allowed to learn their language, considering the help he had given them, and the fact he intended to live with them and was beginning a courtship with their king.

"Hair, beards, and braids are important to us, as I'm sure you're already aware. Longer hair is considered more aesthetically pleasing to us; however that is not the only reason we appreciate wearing hair and beards long.

"Hair that is worn long and appears well cared for suggests the dwarf is careful in their craft and will show respect for themselves and others. Younger dwarrow do not tend to worry about such things, as you can probably tell with Kíli," here, Thorin grinned. "Youngsters are starting to view such thoughts as archaic, as Kíli has told me often enough before: 'Just because I don't fuss over my hair doesn't mean I'm not going to take care of a partner or take care with my craft,' he says. 'That's a really old fashioned way of thinking'."

Bilbo laughed, he could just imagine how much grief headstrong young Kíli would have given Thorin and Dís if they tried to persuade him otherwise.

Thorin shook his head, his grin turning wry as he shrugged then continued. "The other reason for preferring longer hair is of course, the braids and clasps we wear in them. Most races assume these are just decorative, but there is a lot of significance in the different braids."

"They all mean something?" Bilbo was intrigued, glancing first at Thorin's fairly simplistic accent braids, then casting a glance over to Nori with his riot of plaits and artistically coiffed hair (said thief was clearly eavesdropping and preened when he saw Bilbo looking his way, only to receive a cuff upside the head from Bofur).

"Most do yes. Sometimes braids and clasps change with fashion, but there are many that remain the same and hold significance. There are braids for prowess in battle, braids to denote the wearer prefers a particular pronoun to be used for them, there are braids that show which guild or craft the wearer belongs to, some family clans have their own particular way of braiding, or certain clasp designs, like my own."

Thorin indicated to the silvery clasps holding his own braids in place and Bilbo scooted even closer in order to admire them. His fingers had barely brushed the braid when a loud wolf-whistle from Bofur and a jeering comment in _Khuzdul_ from Nori made the hobbit start.

Frowning, Thorin drawled what could only be a rebuke to the pair, as Glóin turned and tackled the thief and the miner to shut them up; pinning them deftly under his broad bulk and offering Thorin a thumbs up. "Carry on lads; I'll keep these two miscreants from prying anymore."

Thorin snorted, rolling his eyes but not appearing particularly angry before clearing his throat in an attempt to banish the light flush that had settled on his cheeks. "Touching another dwarf's hair, as it happens, is actually quite an intimate gesture, and not usually done in public apart from between family members."

"O-oh, oh goodness, I'm sorry, Thorin."

"You weren't to know, we've not exactly been forthcoming in explaining our culture to you, which is something I wish to rectify as soon as we have the time. Besides… we are courting, so I would say that makes you near enough a member of our family."

Thorin had caught Bilbo's hand as he spoke and brushed a gallant kiss to his knuckles, admiring how the hobbit lit up and offered a very pleased grin at the words and gesture.

"There are also braids and clasps which show a dwarf's relationship status; braids of intent, braids of marriage, and clasps made for such events as well." Thorin added in a slightly hurried manner.

It was then Bilbo noticed the flush that had dusted his dwarf's cheeks had now warmed his ears and spread down his neck as well. And suddenly the disappointment he had spied in Thorin's gaze when Bilbo had mentioned cutting his hair made sense.

"You wished to give me braids and clasps as we're courting?" Bilbo guessed his voice soft.

"I would like nothing more, but as a hobbit I would not expect you to share our customs if they were not to your liking. If you prefer to wear your hair short then I will not try to persuade you otherwise. Your happiness and comfort is far more important to me than braids and clasps."

Bilbo darted in then, quick as a flash, cupping Thorin's bearded jaw and pressing gentle kisses to the tip of the dwarf's nose and then his lips.

"Now that you've explained it to me, I think perhaps I can bear to leave my hair long. The custom sounds utterly charming and I would be honoured to wear your braids and clasps, my dear."

"What about the hot weather? Wasn't that part of the reason you wished to cut it?"

"Well you all seem to manage. Perhaps if someone could tie it up or braid it for me it wouldn't be so bad?..." Bilbo trailed off smiling up at Thorin meaningfully.

Thorin's answering smile was a bright and delighted thing as he reached out to gently brush through Bilbo's curls with his fingers. "I'd be more than happy to help you there, _âzyungâl_."


End file.
